La Mort du Chat Noir
by Jeni27
Summary: At the age of eight, Marinette welcomes bad luck in the form of a little black cat. At the age of 17, her luck is completely depleted. An old master out for blood, a new boy that she can't stand, a guardian just trying to do his job, and a little boy with no cure for a deadly disease all come together to make Marinette's life harder than it ever has been before.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: Welcome to my latest endeavor! This is a thing that I have been working on for a while. I love the concept and plot of it and I want to share it with you all. The only problem is that it is rather slow in coming. I currently only have the prologue written, though there is an actual outline. I have no set eta for it, nor an updating schedule for it either.**_

 _ **I'm completely posting this because miraculousmumma told me too. (She's pretty awesome like that).**_

 **La Mort du Chat Noir**

 **Prologue**

Ever since he and his companions had come to this realm and their jewels had been forged by the Guardians to tether them here, he had watched as the very dregs of humanity took every opportunity to wreak havoc on their fellow man. As a creature of Chaos, he could get behind the disaster. However, as a creature forged from the Light, he could not condone the emotional pain and unnecessary destruction.

It was that very destruction that led him to where he was now. Centuries ago, the temple he and his fellow demi-gods resided in had been burned down by a dark group of people searching out power. The small demi-gods rushed back to their jewels, and their head guardian pushed them unceremoniously into a box and ran through the secret passage in the wall.

The black cat's ring however, didn't make it into the box. It fell on the floor under the table and was later found by the darkest of the lot. His powers had been used to cause such atrocities as earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions, and the one thing he refused to ever talk about (and also where he was given his name): The Black Plague.

He had been lost for so long that he felt like he was the only one of his kind left, though he knew that to not be true since many of his "masters" had fought his brethrens' holders. When the last bearer of his ring was killed and the ring cut from his finger, instead of allowing the magic to pull him back in, Plagg refused the call. It was a difficult strain, but he absolutely refused to be held by another darkling.

He would make his own destiny. If he couldn't find a guardian to take him back into the fold, then he would choose his own person. If Bast's children could do it, then so too could he. He just hadn't taken into consideration how much time it might take to find someone he felt worthy enough of his ring. After years of being by himself and hiding from the evil in the world, his magic was getting weaker, and he just needed to sleep.

A little girl gave a watery huff as she slid down against the brick wall next to him and breaking him out of his thoughts. There were unshed tears holding to the corners of her eyes glistened in the sun, and she was biting her lip as if to hold in any noises that might give her taunters more ammunition. There were twigs and leaves in her midnight-black hair. Her arms were scraped and bruised, there was a hole in her shirt and the knees of her jeans were torn.

The bullies were still pointing and giggling at the child's distress, though there was one boy who stood apart from the others. He had blonde hair and kind green eyes that almost looked sad. He stepped forward in their direction but his attention was pulled away a second later by the call of one of his friends. He giggled at whatever was said and ran to catch up with the others.

The little girl hiccupped drawing Plagg's attention back to her. He wondered where her adults were. She couldn't be more than six human years, and yet, here she was, outside at the park with no one around to watch out for her. If he was being honest with himself (which he unfortunately was) her being so young and on her own didn't even surprise him.

"Marinette!" A dark-skinned boy yelled, running over to her. He kneeled down in front of her and pulled her head up from her knees. "Dude. I saw what you just did! That was awesome!" 

"I fell, Nino." Her articulation was well-formed for someone who was six, but maybe she was one of those wealthy kids that had speech lessons. Who was he to judge?

"And now they're all laughing at me." The last word ended on a sob and she buried her head back in her knees.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Sh. Shhh. It's all right, Mares." The boy pulled her to him in a tight hug and allowed her to openly sob into his shirt.

There was an incredible amount of wisdom and empathy in the young boy, and Plagg wondered if the two were family of sorts.

After a few more minutes, the girl pulled back, "Sorry for crying on your shirt," she whispered so lowly that Plagg almost missed it even with his oversensitive hearing.

Nino laughed. "Don't worry about it," he said, face becoming serious, though there was a caring glint to his eyes. "That flip you did off the top of the slide really was amazing, even if you didn't land it. I can tell your gymnastics lessons are paying off. You shouldn't listen to Chloé and her goons."

"I know," the girl grumbled. "It's just sometimes –" Her breath hitched as she glanced behind him. And Plagg, who had become so engrossed in the conversation, had to look and see what it was that had caught her attention.

Nino looked behind himself and then stood half in front of Marinette as if shielding her from view. A girl with brown hair and glasses stood there with her arms were crossed in front of her body and her eyes lowered as she watched her foot scuff the ground.

"Can we help you?" Nino snarled at her.

Raising her head just enough to see them, she said nervously, "I'm Alya."

"Okay, and…?"

Marinette looked around Nino's shoulder with a weariness to her eyes as if she was expecting the worst.

"I just wanted to apologize for laughing at you," the other girl said. "You could have been really hurt, but you took Chloé's dare like a champ. That was really cool."

Marinette stared at her with wide eyes, looking like she had no idea what to say or think.

Nino cleared his throat which brought the girls' eyes to him, and finally after giving her own little cough, Alya gestured behind her and invited them to come play on the swings.

Marinette shuddered at the sight of Chloé and her other friends in the middle of what looked like a swing-jumping contest.

Already shaking her head when Nino turned back to her with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, she said, "I think I'll pass. You go ahead though."

Nino smiled at her, nodded, pulled her into another hug, and then took off to the swings. But the brown-haired girl stayed for a few minutes longer as if silently waiting would get Marinette to change her mind.

Plagg almost laughed out loud and gave away his position when the smaller girl merely stared back and started making funny faces. Her stubbornness was endearing to him, and he decided right then, that this was child was going to be his chosen.

Excitement flooded his blood. He wiggled slightly, knocking his ring over and onto the ground, drawing the girls' attention to it.

"What's that?" Alya asked as they both hurried the very short distance over to the noise. The taller girl reached him first and picked up the ring. Plagg knew that it would be cold to her touch, but he hoped that she didn't take a liking to it and decide to keep it and give it to a loved-one. The ring itself was the sign of a man's ring. It was a plain silver with no distinctive design. It was boring, which currently worked for Plagg. The more boring the design of the ring, the less magic he had to use.

Alya handed the ring to Marinette for examination and while the she still looked wary, she took it and started examining it. Neither Plagg nor Alya were ready for Marinette to pull a sketchbook out of seemingly nowhere and start drawing. She drew for a few minutes with Alya watching on before she realized that the other girl was still there.

"Oh. Sorry," she said, grinning sheepishly.

"No. Don't worry about it." She scratched the back of her neck. "Why don't you keep that?" She gestured to the ring. "I bet you could get so much inspiration from it."

"Really?" Marinette asked, wiggling a little.

"ALYA!" Chloé yelled running over to them, he blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. She grabbed Alya's arm and started pulling her away. "You don't want to play with Mari-trash! She's bad luck! Come on!"

Alya rolled her eyes, shrugged and mouthed a sorry to Marinette allowing herself to be pulled away by her friend.

Plagg watched as the girl's entire being drooped. "It's fine," she whispered. "It's not like I expected anything different anyway." She leaned back against the wall and glared at the sky, and fighting back tears, and toying with the ring between her fingers.

Her melancholy pulled at his hardened heart. It had been a long time since he had felt any type of compassionate emotion. He watched her take in a deep breath as if readying herself to face the world. One so young should not have to be so brave. Well – at least not without some godly help. Besides, he knew a thing or two about bad luck. He could help her harness it to her advantage.

He mustered up his own battered courage and floated over to her leg. Pulling on the little bit of magic that he had left, he transformed himself.

She jumped and looked around, only to find a tiny black cat with bright green eyes looking up at her and nuzzling her leg.

"OH! Kitty! Aren't you adorable!" She bent over and gently picked him up. "I wonder if Papa and Maman would let me keep you," she muttered, nuzzling his head. "We live in a bakery, you know. There's a good chance they'll say no because of animal codes and food."

Plagg purred. It didn't matter to him one way or another. This was his human from now on and he would keep her no matter what.

"Mari!" Someone called from the sidewalk.

She groaned into his head and whispered, "that's Bridgette, my cousin. She's staying with us right now. She's kind of bossy and I only like her a little bit."

"Marinette, come on!" Bridgette said huffing out breaths as she got closer. She had long black hair that was tied back in twin-tails, much like the younger girls. She had to be quite a few years older than his chosen master because while she still had a child's face, that bump on her belly was a definite indicator of her being in the way of a family.

"You could have answered when I called you, Mari!"

"I'm sorry. I was coming. I didn't mean to make you come all the way over here." She looked down at the ground and sighed. Plagg was getting really tired of people making this girl feel bad. Already feeling protective of her, he turned and hissed with all the might of his tiny body.

Bridgette screamed, covered her mouth, and pointed. "What is that!?"

"It's my new cat," Marinette said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 _(Plagg had to agree that it was)._

"Your parents won't let you keep him."

The little girl only shrugged. "You don't know that. Maybe they'll let me have him for my ninth birthday."

Ah, so the girl was older than he thought. Well, no matter. She was still too tiny for her own good and needed protecting. This thought was proved seconds later when the two girls started walking and Marinette tripped over thin air.

Bridgette's voice was incredulous when she answered, "Which is in, what, seven months?"

"So? It'll be an early birthday present." They came to the door of a patisserie boulangerie. A little bell dinged as they entered, and Plagg was hit with the smells of sweet goodness. But above all of it was cheese. And not just any cheese, but camembert. His mouth watered and he struggled to get down. However, when she tightened her hold on him, he realized that maybe jumping away wouldn't be in his best interests.

A woman that resembled the two girls stood at the counter and greeted them when they came in. Her eyes zeroed in on him and then moved over to her daughter's face and darted between the two of them for a moment. Whatever she saw there wasn't made clear to Plagg, but she nodded slightly and told them to go upstairs.

But as Marinette passed behind the counter, her mother lightly touched her shoulder and said, "we'll discuss this later." She gently patted Plagg's head once and then nudged them to the door.

"Hmph," Bridgette said as they went up the stairs. "Your parents spoil you."

Marinette just sighed and continued up the stairs behind her cousin.

 _ **A/N: Kudos and Comments are much appreciated and also motivational food and love for the author! Let me know what you think!**_


	2. Eight Years Later

_**A/N:**_ _This story is an AU and a kwami-swap. There are some OCs and the original characters may seem OOC compared to what they are in the show. However, since this is an AU, that should be expected. A lot of thought, tears, and edits went into this chapter. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!_

* * *

 **La Mort du Chat Noir**

 **Chapter I**

 _ **Eight Years Later…**_

" _Lack of communication is the number one reason for chaos and strife between most sentient creatures."_

It wasn't every day Minuit was chased around by a giant moth looking figure in purple and silver robes and a knight's helmet for a head. There was a possibility that there was an actual head underneath the helmet, but Minuit didn't feel the need to find out.

She had been doing this vigilante thing since she was twelve, and this was the first time she had ever been chased down by something of the supernatural variety. Of course, four years ago, she didn't believe that Plagg actually existed.

When she first found his ring at eight years old and brought him home, she was given conditions to be allowed to keep him. But none of those conditions were necessary. Plagg had re-morphosed himself back into his original floating form and given her all the instructions he felt that she would need.

Hide his ring in a safe place.

Don't let anyone touch it.

Ever.

Allow him to sleep until he wakes up.

Her wide eyes took him in, entranced by the idea of a flying kitty. But then he clapped his claw-like arms at her and she nodded quickly. He yawned, flew into the currently glowing ring, and promptly fell asleep for the next four years.

At twelve, Marinette had grown only a few inches and had developed a relatively sarcastic and snarky attitude in response to all of the bullying that she received from one, Chloé Bourgeois and her many minions.

She stormed into her room, huffing in anger. She flopped down on her chaise lounge, legs sprawled out over the side, hands covering her face, and screamed.

"Hey! Pipe down!" A snarky voice said from her desk.

She spread her fingers so that she could see and came eye to eye with a floating black blob.

She screamed again, throwing a pillow at whatever it was.

The thing flitted through the pillow, little fap-like arms waving around as he dodged other projectiles.

"Hey! Kid! Chill! It's me, Plagg!" He screeched.

She stopped. Her head tilting in such a cat-like curious way, that Plagg couldn't help but grin. He knew he picked the right one.

"Plagg?" she asked hesitantly, reaching out her hand slowly and letting him settle into it.

"But – I… I thought you were just a dream?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I was afraid that might happen. But, I'm not. And now that I'm awake, we're going to have so much fun together."

Plagg gave her the ability to be truly free. She recognized that she was privileged. She had security, warmth, and love. Her parents and cousins were great, but sometimes, she felt out-of-place – as if she didn't belong. It didn't help that when Brigette was around, she treated Marinette almost as badly as the bullies at school did.

So when Plagg taught her "claws out," she took to the roofs, parkouring her way from one end of Paris to the other. On the weekends, she would be gone for almost entire days. She rarely used her powers, though the chaos god did teach her about them.

Throughout her four years, she had broken up fights, stopped robberies and muggings, and in a couple of cases, stopped potential rapes from happening. Few people had actually seen her since she always remained in the shadows and on the roofs, but there were some who had caught a glimpse of her.

One of those people was Alya Cesaire who was currently chasing after the purple clothed thing following Minuit.

 _I do not have time for this_ , she thought dodging another lightning hit from the thing behind her. She jumped up to a roof and into the shadows, pulling up a shadow screen in front of her. It was the one power she could use that wouldn't put a strain on Plagg and didn't have a time limit. Plus she was really good at it.

"I can see you, Kitten," the thing whispered from behind her.

Okay, maybe she wasn't as good with the shadow screen as she thought she was. She ducked below its swipe, scrambling down a light pole. Once on her feet at the bottom, she pulled her baton of the back of her suit, pressed the extending button and swung.

The figure jumped over the baton as if it was a jump-rope and then leaped down under the awning. It yelled something mocking that Minuit missed in her search for something to get this thing off her tail.

 _Cataclysm_. Plagg whispered through her conscious.

 _Won't that put us on a limit?_

 _Yes, but I don't see another choice right now_.

She gritted her teeth. _Ugh. I hate to say it (think it?) but we could totally use Harmonia's help right now._

 _Yes, well. He's not here, and we're about to die._

"Kitty!" Alya yelled, breaking off the inner conversation. She raced over to Minuit, and everything slowed down as the cat-like figure watched in wide-eyed terror as the purple and silver figure shot a lightning bolt directly at the other girl.

"No," she whispered. It was as if she was frozen. She had never cared much for Alya, but she didn't want to see her die.

"MOVE!" A red and black blur dove for Alya, pushing her to the ground and rolling.

"Minuit!" It was the yell of her name that broke her trance.

 _Behind you._

She would be forever grateful to Plagg for being able to see all around her when she was only to be able to see what was right in front of her. She dodged again, just barely being scraped across the arm by something sharp. It left a searing burn in the arm of her suit, but her arm was only a little red.

She hissed, spinning on her heel and marching up to where the purple figure still stood under the awning of the business.

"Awe. Come to give up little kitty?" It mocked again in that same high-pitched voice. His entire arm lit up with electricity, and he smirked.

Her eyes narrowed as she whispered, "Cataclysm." The dark bubbles of chaos writhed in her clenched left hand, boiling over and bubbling around her. She twirled her baton in her right hand. Her mouth was set in a firm line, black mask scrunched up around her nose and eyes.

They stared each other down as she walked steadily forward. He raised his hand in warning, smirk turning into a grin.

"Ready to die, kitten?" It asked.

Minuit scoffed, "You. Wish."

Its arm crackled even more, little bolts of electricity jumping off. It pointed a finger at her heart. "Come any closer and you'll die. Your kwami will be mine."

 _Minuit._ Plagg sounded a bit nervous.

It giggled, and the electricity coalesced into a ball at his fingertips.

 _Minuit…_ She had never heard him sound so nervous.

The electricity sparked and flew forward.

 _CHATON!_

She jumped to the side falling into a roll and bouncing back up onto her feet. She felt the whoosh of air as the bolt rushed past her. The enemy stood gobsmacked. It looked at its hand as if it had failed him immensely.

Minuit took the distraction and slammed her chaos ridden hand down on the awning pole. It disintegrated. The heavy canopy fell with a clatter on the person taking them down and tangling them up in the fabric.

She watched it struggle for a moment, turning to sprint away.

"Minuit!"

 _Dammit._

She was stopped by the blind superhero clad in a red jumpsuit. It had four large black dots running down his torso, with black threaded "x's" holding the dots together. The sides of his torso and outside of his legs were outlined with the same black. His boots were also black and blended to the middle of his shin.

Her designer's eye always appreciated the sleekness of his costume, even if he was a bit too much of a "goody" for her.

"Harmony." She nodded at him.

He eyed her up and down, before saying warily, "That's not my name."

She shrugged, and he continued, "That thing won't be down for long. We need to work together to get rid of it."

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. One of the stones on her ring blinked out quietly and she knew that she only had a couple more minutes

"No -can-do, Harmonica. I gotta run."

He sighed. "It's – "

"Don't worry. I have faith that you can do it!" She sprinted away, pulling her baton off her back and pole-vaulting to the roofs. She parkoured a few blocks away before she dropped down into an alley and transformed back to Marinette.

Plagg popped into her line of vision. His little arms crossed over his tiny chest. There was so much disapproval coming off of his being. She shrank back from him.

"I'm sorry?" She asked.

He sighed and shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, mon petite chaton?"

She giggled, handing him a piece of cheese and stepping out of the alley behind her house.

He huffed, but took it and then snuggled into her purse.

"Oh." She stopped and Plagg dared to peek out the between the zipper. He snarled at the little boy sitting curled up in front of the bakery. Plagg had never been fond of the kid, but Marinette adored him.

"Nadír?" She asked and bolted over to him. "What happened?" She demanded.

His curly brown hair was mussed, leaves and twigs messed into it; his black-knitted hat sat on the floor next to him in shreds of yarn and holes. His beloved grey scarf that she had lovingly worked on for weeks, and threatened Plagg under pain of no cheese if he ruined it, was nowhere to be seen. There was a hole in his jacket sleeve where the lining was coming out, and it sat halfway off of his shoulder showing off another tear in the shoulder of his black sweater.

He sobbed and buried his face further into his arms. Her breath hitched as she slid an arm around his frail shoulders.

"Nadír." She said again.

Nadir unburied his face from his arms. His grey eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and his bottom lip trembled. His cheeks were red from the cold, but he was paler than he usually was, and there were scratches around his eyes and a bruise forming on his jaw on the right side of his face.

His lips twisted up into a grimace. "Hey," he said with a half-hearted wave.

"What happened?" She asked again.

His shoulders fell and he buried his head in his arms again.

"Nadír." Her tone gave little room for argument,

"You know you can either tell me – or you can answer all your maman's questions when she sees you.

He huffed but relented. It was just easier to talk to Marinette.

He started out slow as was his way, contemplating his words carefully. He had a terrible stuttering problem when he was first learning to speak. Brigette had put him in therapy when he was two, and now at eight, one could hardly tell that he had ever had it in the first place. However, it reared its ugly head whenever he was flustered. That mixed with a fragile constitution kept him in and out of the hospital had led to Brigette's decision to homeschool him for the first few years of school.

It had taken a while for Tom and Sabine to convince her to let Nadir go to regular school, but when she finally broke down, Nadir had lit up. His excitement was palpable and permeated the entire building. He had now been in school for about two months, and Marinette could tell that it was not going as well as Nadir had hoped it would.

Marinette doubted that anyone else noticed though. Perhaps it was just that she recognized the signs of being bullied because she had been a victim of it as well.

He played with his fingers and raised his eyes to hers. "Nina – um well… She was waiting for me in the park when I left school," he began.

"Nina?"

His shoulders hunched up and he tucked his chin back down, mumbling something that she didn't catch.

Her eyes narrowed as she started putting the pieces together. She watched him for a few more minutes and the sighed when he didn't look back at her.

"Where's your scarf, mon lutin?" She asked, hoping that a slight change in the subject might bring him out more.

Nadir's shoulders trembled and he sobbed, covering his face with his hands.

Marinette hugged him tighter "No, no, no, mon tendre. What is it? What happened?"

He threw his arms around her neck and bawled into her shoulder.

"A group of kids were waiting for me in the park. Nina wanted my scarf. She said that there was no way I could afford something so expensive. She said that the son of a baker didn't deserve something so nice!"

"My mom isn't even a baker!" he wailed.

Marinette snorted, though her blood was boiling. She kept her temper to herself and asked, "Did you tell her that it was made for you?"

He nodded and sniffled some more. "I did, but she didn't believe me. Then Bernard pushed me on the ground and took it. He gave it to Nina."

Plagg pushed against Marinette's leg. He may not care much for the kid, but he was part of his clowder. Besides, his girl wouldn't let this slight go.

They would be going for a run tonight.

She stood on the roof of the building across from her newest classmate's home, blending in with the shadows perfectly in her black suit and forest green suit. The green details faded against the blackness of her clothes. She had already circled the mansion three times, once on foot. Everything was dark, not even sensor lights came on as she passed by the front gate.

 _Seriously, what rich family doesn't have sensor lights?_ Plagg asked. She only shrugged and took off quietly, jumping from roof to roof and landing solidly on one of the lower levels of the Eiffel tower to watch the back of the house.

There was a block of long paned windows that glistened in the moonlight. A balcony sat just beneath them, and she jumped down to it, slinking her way through the shadows, using them to her advantage to keep from triggering any hidden alarms.

She reached out a gloved hand to push against one of the windows when she heard a thump behind her. She hopped back into the shadows and watched as a red-and-black clad figure stood from a crouching position.

Minuit bristled. _What is he doing here? Shouldn't he be out doing some do-gooder stuff?_ She stiffened when a red-light flashed around him and he turned into Adrien Agreste.

She barely kept herself from hissing when a small, red sprite flew right up to her. "Eep!" She pushed herself even further against the wall and threw up her hand. The shadows coalesced around her and made it seem like there was nothing there except for them.

"Tikki?" Adrien asked.

Minuit watched as he came over to where the little kwami was, though she couldn't be sure if the magic obscured the flying creature as well.

She supposed it didn't when he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the red being and crossed his arms. He was clad in black pajama bottoms that had little green paw prints on them. His shirt was a swirl of black and green colors that should not have worked with the bottoms, but the black paw print in the middle of the shirt pulled the whole thing together.

Against her better wishes, Minuit was oddly flattered at her enemy's choice in clothes.

"What is it Tikki? Another aphid?"

Tikki ignored him in favor of glaring at the dark shadows.

Adrien sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face.

"Come on. I'm tired and I still haven't finished that history assignment." He turned back to the door, voice trailing off as he got further away, "It would be so much easier if Minuit would just show up so we could hash things out."

Minuit did snort at that. As if she would even think of talking to Harmonia, especially now, knowing who he was. Her disgust of all things Agreste ran deep.

She dropped the shadow screen and found herself being glared at by the little red kwami. Her blue eyes were ice, and Minuit almost shivered from the cold that radiated from the stare.

"I know all of Plagg's tricks, little kitty," Tikki whispered at her. "He will answer for the crimes he has wrought upon the world."

Minuit shrank back, narrowing her eyes as she did so. She knew that Plagg had been part of things that were bad in the past, but she doubted he wanted anything to do with them. She swatted the red kwami away from her, "I'm pretty sure that if Plagg wanted anything to do with those atrocities, I wouldn't be comforting him from his nightmares on a nightly basis. But, you know, keep your hasty judgments. They just make me want to stay away from you and your chosen even more."

Tikki's eyes widened, small mouth open in an 'o'. Minuit took advantage of the little goddess's surprise and pushed past her. She made a running leap off the balcony, landing on her feet and hiding in a bush when she heard Adrien whisper, "who's out there?' from above her.

There was some whispering, and then nothing. Hoping that her small bit of luck at not getting caught would stay with her, the Black Cat sneaked out from the bushes, dashed to the wall, scrambled up a tree, and jumped over the wall. She ran to the ally across the street and vaulted to the roof, parkouring her way back to her house.

She would have to get Nadir's scarf back a different way.

* * *

 **A/N:** Comments and faves are welcome, and completely, unapologetically asked for by the author.

Please note that the following rant only applies to a miniscule percentage of people, but apparently needs to be said in light of some comments that were received on a previous MLB fanfiction that I wrote.

(I can't believe I even have to say this) I love comments and reviews and all of that just as much as the next author. I am also generally okay with people who have negative comments and concerns about a story. If these comments are put in a constructive manner, I try to use them to become a better writer. However, if you begin a negative comment with "You will probably take this as flame..." and you are using an Anonymous screen name, then yes, I will definitely take your comment as flame and I will deny it as a response to my story. If you do not have the balls to say it to my face, if you will, with an email in which I am allowed to defend myself as the writer of a story, then please don't waste my time with your review. If you really have a problem with my story, then just don't read it. Like – At. All. I do this for fun and also for free entertainment for my readers. The only thing I get from negative comments is the lack of will to continue writing for an ungrateful fandom.


	3. Nightmares and Dreams and Things

_**A/N:**_ _This story is an AU and a kwami-swap. There are some OCs and the original characters may seem OOC compared to what they are in the show. However, since this is an AU, that should be expected. Anyway:_ _HERE IT IS! Umm... This may seem a bit underwhelming, but ¯_

\\_(ツ)_/¯.

 _ **Summary:**_ _My poor bébé, Nadír._

* * *

 **La Mort du Chat Noir**

 **Chapter II**

 _ **Nightmares and Dreams and Things…**_

" _The will to keep going is only undermined by the belief that one cannot do it."_

Some days were better than others for Nadír. Then again, it was the night that he usually had issues with. The nightmares that plagued his dreams would probably make a grown man cry.

Nadír was used to them.

Usually.

Tonight they were worse than ever. Whirls of dark colors and twisted and gnarled bony hands reached from a rumbling ground chasing after him – always just one step behind him.

Always just grazing his heel as he ran.

The winds rose up around him, howling and almost bowling him over.

There were monsters too. Though he couldn't actually see them, he could feel their unmitigated power as it reached out to grab him and always just missing.

The landscape was perpetually barren, except for a few craggy hills and trees. But even the caves he saw had dark shadows writhing within, making him cower.

He tossed and turned in his sleep, moaning, and crying. His only solace was knowing that nothing ever truly held on.

Until something did.

One of the hands grazing his heels latched onto his foot and pulled. The ground opened up beneath him. A black abyss of nothingness, dirt, and smoke ready to swallow him. He swore he saw jagged teeth.

Somewhere in the back of his eight-year-old mind, he recognized that this was just another nightmare, but he couldn't talk himself out of the terror that was seizing his heart and making his blood freeze.

He couldn't get out.

He couldn't move.

And nobody was coming to save him.

His small body writhed in his bed, tossing and turning and flipping himself around so that his feet were at the head and his head was at the foot.

His sleep-ridden eyes popped open, seeing nothing but blackness, he reached for a piece of cloth that always gave him comfort but wasn't there anymore.

His groggy mind jolted into a more semi-alert state when he couldn't find his scarf.

His breath hitched.

His heart pounded even faster.

The shadows moved, and he jumped from his bed into the corner where he curled up into a ball, head buried in his arms.

He wanted to go to his maman – but she would tell him that it was just a dream and nothing would get him.

But he knew differently.

He could always go to his auntie and uncle. He knew they wouldn't turn him away, but that would mean he would have to brave the shadows and the stairs.

He really wished Marinette was there to help him calm down.

Then again… he wanted hugs and warmth which was something that Marinette usually didn't do. He counted himself lucky that she sometimes gave affection to him. She tended to have a 'cold-shoulder,' as Uncle Tom would say, for many people.

Nadír peeked up from his arm and saw another shadow making him squeak. His breathing sped up, and a violent shiver went down his spine.

" _You will die tonight,"_ a disembodied voice whispered, but he couldn't tell if it was just another part of his nightmare or if someone was actually in his room with him.

He whimpered and pushed himself back even further into the corner. " _You cannot become one with the wall_ ," Marinette's laughing face told him. She giggled and held a hand out to him. " _Come on, silly. What are you doing down there?"_

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached a hand out to her. "Um – I don't know?"

She giggled, though it was high-pitched and unnatural. Nadír pulled his face out of his arms and gasped.

"No. No. No," he whimpered. Marinette's face had a purple hue to it. The pupils of her eyes were merely slits in the surrounding white. Her smile was wide, tooth-filled, and sinister. She wore all black and it seemed like the shadows danced around her.

"It's okay," she whispered, "I'll make the nightmares go away."

He felt sweat drip down his back, and he wrenched his hand away from the monster in Marinette's form.

"You are a nightmare!" He screamed. "Go away!"

The shadows coalesced around him. Swirling ever closer and drawing up and around him.

"Oh, dear," the nightmare said, "don't you trust me?" She moved closer to him, creeping into his space and backing him up against the wall again. The whites in her eyes seemed to get bigger; the pupil almost non-existent.

Nadír shook his head slowly, not taking his gaze away from her. Then images began flashing through his mind. Marinette sitting next to him on the steps of the bakery and listening to him. Marinette presenting him with his most precious scarf. Marinette playing games with him in the hospital during his overnight stays. Her blue eyes tired from the long night, but amusement and happiness dancing within them. Her smile real and genuine.

He pushed the Marinette in front of him away. "You're not her," he whispered, and the image flickered.

She reached her hand out, but he slapped it before she could touch him.

"No." There was a steel resolve in the word. One that he wasn't sure where it was coming from, but was thankful for nonetheless.

'You're not my cousin. Go away."

The image flickered again. It was now almost an ethereal mist. Just a vague outline and some colors.

Nadír took in a deep breath and let it out as steadily as he could. "Marinette would never hurt me. You. Are. Not. Her. Get out of my head!"

Her face grimaced and contorted. A screech whistled through the air and a strong wind blew him back against the wall. He hit his head and slid down to the floor, shaking and shivering.

Brigette found him the next morning, curled into a ball on the floor in the corner of his room.

"Oh, Nadír," she said with fond exasperation. "You have to get up, mon tendre."

"Nadír?" she said again, moving into his room.

She leaned over his body and turned him toward her.

"Oh no," she said in a horrified whisper.

His face was pale and cold. His lips tinged blue. She checked for a pulse and while it was there, it was slow and hard to find.

Pushing back the rising panic, she focused on what she needed to do to save him. This was just another episode and they would get through it.

Marinette slammed into the school, pushing pass everyone in her way and shoving those who wouldn't move.

How dare they send her to school when Nadír needed her?

The ambulance in front of the bakery was a dead giveaway that something was going on, but her parents were adamant that she go to school as if nothing had happened.

Even Plagg told her to go.

She had narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "since when do you want me to go to those institutionalized education facilities?" She used air-quotes around the last three words and was happy to see his ears droop slightly at her snark as he sank back into the relative safety of her purse.

Eyes just peaking over the rim, he said just loud enough for her sensitive ears to pick up, "I just don't want to see you get in trouble for another absence is all."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. But before she could retaliate, her maman came bustling back in the door and hurried her off.

"Hmph," she muttered, "you're hiding something from me, Plagg."

The only response she received was a light snore.

It didn't matter how what he was trying to hide from her. If it had to do with Nadír, she was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Comments and faves are welcome, and completely, unapologetically asked for by the author._


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